We Only Hurt the Ones We Love

If you’ve read my blog, tweets or even Facebook posts, you know that I hate Justin Bieber as much as the next guy. It’s nothing personal. I just think the world could be a brighter place without his music, his perfume, his posters, or his face on every magazine, billboard, kiosk, and TV show. To me he is the epitome of all that is wrong with our celebrity embracing society.

“Wow Rob! Tell us how you really feel.”

I know, right? That’s a lot of blame to hurl an eighteen-year-old kid. He hasn’t even been alive long enough to earn that kind of venom. I get that, but he has made the most of the time he’s had. And yet, my hatred is not personal.  I know that it’s not his fault. It’s the chrysalis of media experts and marketing professionals protecting him and growing him into the butterfly that is Justin Bieber.

But enough about me, let’s talk about somebody else’s Bieber love. Like the guy who just hired two assassins to eliminate him and his bodyguard.

That guy’s love burns far hotter than my love. My love is more of the “stumble upon a time machine and transport baby Bieber to a remote island with Gilligan and the Skipper” variety. Death is so final, and could elevate Bieber in the minds to the likes of Lincoln, Kennedy, and Lennon.  I really don’t want that to happen.

“Beiber bless you.”

Yeah, no. So yeah, this guy hires two killers to take out the Bieber. He probably hired them because he couldn’t do it himself. See, unlike Johnny Cash, Beiber doesn’t do prison sing-a-longs, and our Beiber zealot is a ward of the state of New Mexico.

In a stroke of genius, our mastermind saved up his smokes and license plate booty and launched a devious plan. Our man behind bars hired himself a hired gun who knew the value of a pack of cigarettes and some free time.  He hired a recently released fellow prisoner who in turn brought along his adult son.

Ah yes. As anybody who’s watched an hour of TV knows, from here out, hilarity ensues and I don’t even need to make anything up. Although I should warn you, this is where the story starts to unravel. Not all the sources agree on what happened next and even a few news outlets are a little skeptical.

Me? Since when did I let a few facts bother me? But these are the closest thing to the facts as presented by several reporters who wasted their time so that I in turn could waste yours.

First, I’m not sure if Bieber was the original target or part of a Walmart assassination sale.  The father and son bonding team were supposed to kill “two witnesses,” then kill Bieber and his bodyguard. I’m guessing the “two witnesses” watched a previous crime committed by Mr. New Mexico.  Finding two witnesses to kill before having them watch the death of the Bieber and the bodyguard seems a little counterproductive. Either way (and I am no criminal mastermind), these seem to be the earmarks of an afterthought murder.

“You know what? Since you’ve already got the paisley tie and garden shears in the car, why don’t you kill Justin Bieber and his bodyguard too?”

Paisley tie and garden shears? 

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that? Our assassins were going to use the paisley to bind, blind and strangle after they used the shears to cut off everybody’s manhood and feed it to the goats. Yeah, somebody’s been watching too much Game of Thrones.

It’s me. No goats popped up in any other reports. The manhood, on the other hand, was slung all over the news.

So, on the road to adventure, our outlet-murder-store drives to Vermont to commit their first parcel of crimes. Some reports say they used Apple maps and accidentally found themselves in Canada talking to the border patrol. Other reports say that our mastermind behind bars, his heart grew three sizes that day. He confessed his plot to the authorities. Either way you slice it, this story comes up nuts.

The important thing is that everybody was caught before anybody lost their manhood. Well except perhaps the man behind bars. See, he planned this murder not because he hated Justin Bieber, but because he loved him. He’s even got Justin tattooed on his leg. This whole scheme started because Justin never responded when the man tried reaching out.

Sometimes love makes us do stranger things than hatred.

Luckily for Justin, I still hate him.